Chapter 27 #2
Christine eases me down to my feet, and Bella is already running to my side. I flash her a thumbs-up.
“Mylo, are you alright?”
“Thanks to Christine,” I say ruefully.
Bella’s tone takes on a stern edge. “Mylo, I told you—”
I raise a hand, pinching the bridge of my nose with the other.
“I know. And you were right. That was a stupid rookie mistake. I should’ve realized I was getting tired.
” Should’ve known better than to push it when I’m sweating buckets.
Should’ve been smarter than letting ego get in the way.
Should’ve listened to Bella when she said she had the shot.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Bella says gently. “We’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re alright. And glad you were nearby.” Bella turns her attention to Christine, who stands right behind my shoulder. There’s gratitude in the stunt woman’s tone, but also confusion. “Why were you nearby?”
“Just taking a quick walk while on break,” Christine says quietly.
Too quietly. It’s not like her to sound bashful. Or maybe not bashful; it’s more… guilty.
Wait a second…
I turn to Bella. “Mind if I grab Christine for a minute while you move stuff around for the next shot?”
Bella looks as if she has a thousand questions to ask, but the schedule permits time for exactly zero of them. “Sure,” she says thinly, turning to spur the rest of the crew into action.
I grab Christine’s elbow and pull her further into the ravine, enough to get us out of earshot. Then, realizing I may not look the most professional for the next minute or two, I pull her all the way around a bend, hidden from view.
“Were you stalking me?” I hiss.
At this, Christine looks incredulous. “Stalking? We’re both working here!”
“Yeah, exactly! You have a job!”
“So do you. I thought you were Mister Safety. So, what the fuck was that?”
My cheeks heat, and I glance down at the rocks lining the base of the ravine—rocks I very nearly shattered my spine across. “It’s like I told Bella. Just a stupid rookie mistake. One I probably wouldn’t have made if not for you skulking after me, making my palms sweat!”
“And you call me the self-centered one.” She barks a quiet, cold laugh. “I just got here. In the nick of time, I might add. Because how you smell is interfering with my job.”
My blood flashes hot. “You don’t get to blame—” omegas, I want to say, but the crew is too close. “—us for how we naturally smell! You think every time you scent one of us—”
“It’s not because you smell like an omega,” she hisses, and I wince at the word said aloud. “It’s because you smell like an omega in heat.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “No, I don’t. That’s taken care of. Last night… worked.”
She grips my chin, and my breath stutters in my lungs.
“You can lie to yourself,” she growls, “but don’t you dare lie to me.”
I try to keep it together.
I really do.
But as we stare each other down, every exhale sends heat radiating from my core, soaking my bodysuit with sweat, chin leaning into her touch.
I don’t know which of us moves first, only that my hands are in her hair, her lips against mine, my tongue seeking hers.
I moan quietly, and her hand drops to my neck.
“Shhh…”
My throat softens under her touch, and her tongue slides along the roof of my mouth, pressing deeper, tasting and searching.
My cock tightens in my tucking briefs, pinching painfully, but the pain only floods my body with an endorphin high.
Her hands slide over my waist, only the thin spandex between us. Heat stirs under every touch. When her hand slides down, down, across the peak of my hipbone, between my legs, breath rattles through me. It’s everything I can do to not moan or scream or beg.
Christine pulls back and I follow her, ravenous, clinging to her neck. The hand at my throat pushes me down onto my heels, and I only stop my desperate tugging when her lips press against my cheek, then my jaw, nibbling to my ear.
Her hot breath falls along the side of my neck, sending a tingling wave down my spine, and my muscles soften.
“Mylo,” she breathes, and my name on her tongue is the sweetest sound. “Listen to me very carefully…”
“Mhm…” I moan quietly, nuzzling against her.
“This costume doesn’t have a fly, does it?”
My head tips back, throat fluttering with a ragged breath. “No…” My blood boils at the thought of her tearing through the fabric, freeing my throbbing length, which pinches harder with every heartbeat—
“Then I’m going to need you to… Knock it off.”
The command hits me like ice water, and I straighten.
“You need to be very good for me today. Finish all your work. Then maybe… just maybe… I’ll give you what you want.”
Gears grind in my mind, instincts splitting: part desperate for her taste, part dedicated to obedience.
It’s enough for my good sense to seize control of my body again, and I stumble back, putting a pace between us.
“Fuck,” I hiss. My thoughts are still sluggish and hazy, like I chugged two glasses of wine. I turn a glare at Christine. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Rage pulls her lips taught. “I shouldn’t have… You’re the one that pulled me over here! I was going to leave. After saving your ass, I might add.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I snap. I know it’s childish and stupid the moment the words leave my mouth. But it feels safer when she’s mad. Or maybe part of me wants to get pinned against this ravine wall and—
“Stop that!” Christine hisses.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking about whatever you’re thinking about that makes you smell like that.”
Only now do I notice her heavy breathing. Her tongue sweeps across her fangs as she swallows past a still-watering mouth.
It feels idiotic, but I lift my arm and sniff. Notes of sweet honey and florals overwhelm my usual citrus.
I frown. I didn’t even know I could smell like that.
“Just…” Christine sighs, running her hand through her hair, sending the silvery platinum shining in the sun. “If you care so much about your job, go do it. And try not to get yourself killed this time.”
My cock throbs, and I wince. At least the pain will help me focus.
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” I grumble, turning away from Christine and heading back up the ravine.
Pebbles clatter against rock. I turn and look up as she pulls herself over the cliff’s edge.
Something sour and petulant churns in my gut. She has almost a foot on me; it’s not as impressive when she does it.
“Mylo?” Bella calls.
I swiftly round the corner. “Yeah?”
“Ready for the next shot?”
A lingering thread of Christine’s scent catches the wind and drifts past my nose. Heat flashes across my skin, and my cock tightens another measure. It hurts, but better that than it showing through this skin-tight costume.
I throw a thumbs-up and flash a smile. “Yeah, all ready.”